


The Five Senses

by kissmedeadlytt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmedeadlytt/pseuds/kissmedeadlytt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean loves how Castiel smells, tastes, looks, feels, and sounds – how his very presence is safety that crashes over him in waves and makes him feel whole for maybe the first time in forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Senses

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Destiel fanfiction I've ever written and completed. It's rated for sexual content (without any actual sex) and there are some mild spoilers for season nine. Any criticism, praise or otherwise (excluding rudeness of course 'cause that's not cool) is welcome :)   
> Also, I hope I didn't miss any spelling errors! I tried my hardest to clean it all up.

Dean loves how Castiel smells – pure and clean, like the forest after rainfall, with an underlying musky scent of  _man_. He loves it when it's early morning and Cas gets up before him and wanders to the kitchen to make coffee, and how the bitter scent of it lingers on him when Dean joins him and leans in for a kiss. After a hunt, Cas, newly human and newly  _dirty_ , smells like sweat and dirt and blood and it shouldn't be appealing – Dean has dealt with these scents his whole life – but it  _is._  He vaguely wonders: can attraction really affect the way a person perceives scent? Would something disgusting smell good because it belongs to the man you love? He doesn't know, but either way, he just loves how Cas smells. He  _really_  loves it when Cas wears one of his shirts, and his scent mingles with Dean's cologne and his laundry. It's perfect and Dean doesn't really understand how he can be so attracted to a  _smell_ , but damn it all, he's  _addicted._  Hook, line, and sinker.

He loves how Castiel tastes. Maybe that's weird, but it's some sort of kink he's developed over the months they've actually been sleeping together once Sam finally got tired of their eye-intercourse and 'accidentally' shoved them together and told them to "Friggin' just  _kiss_ , already." He doesn't really know how he can love something that should be so unappealing, but when he kisses Cas and he can taste lingering mint toothpaste and coffee and an underlying something sweet that's just  _Castiel_ , he doesn't care. He loves when they're having sex, and he's sucking Cas off, or planting wet little kisses all over his body, how Cas tastes salty from sweat and a little soapy from the body-wash he always steals from Sam. Before, when Cas was an angel, he'd always do a stupid angel-mojo-cleanse thing and he'd always tasted kinda… boring. Strong and powerful, somehow, like bottled lightning if that made sense, but it was so _clean_ and  _bland_. Dean likes this better. He knows Cas is meant to be an angel, but he can't help but think that he's so much better like this.

He loves how Castiel looks – he's not a romantic guy, really, but he honestly feels like he could drown in the ex-angel's eyes, they're so blue. At first, he'd thought that it was simply Castiel's grace that made them so bright, but they're as blue as ever even now that he'd fallen for good, and  _god_ , they're beautiful. Sometimes he forgets that Castiel's body is really Jimmy Novak, but he doesn't think about that often, because Jimmy is gone now and this is  _Cas_. Not Jimmy. Even though they shared the same body, there's something more…  _rugged_  about Cas, something that makes Dean's body warm up from the very core outwards. There's something in his sharp cheekbones, his deep-set eyes, his permanent disgruntled frown, his messy hair and ever-present five o'clock shadow… something that's got him hooked. Hell, more hooked than  _pie_. He loves how Cas looks when he laughs, 'cause it makes his crowfeet and puffy eyes more defined and his toothy grin is just adorable. He loves how Cas looks when they're fucking, when they're making love, when they're cooking together, sitting together, hunting together, covered in sweat and blood and dirt and grit together and  _damn it_  he just  _really_  thinks Cas is fucking gorgeous.

He loves how Cas feels – how their stubble scratches together when they kiss, how it tickles him when Cas' lips leave his and wander lower. He loves his hands, rough from use but gentle to touch. He loves the feeling of his skin, smooth in some places and marred with new scars in others. Sometimes, when they're lying together in Dean's bed, he'll just touch Cas everywhere— not lustingly, just lovingly, just knowing that he's  _there_  and warm and safe and  _alive_. His fingers glide so perfectly over Cas' muscles, and there's one particular scar on his left pectoral that Dean always pays special attention to because it makes Cas shudder slightly and curl closer to him. Their bodies always fit perfectly together, and Dean sometimes wonders if Cas didn't do that on purpose when he raised him and recreated his body. He loves how Cas is warm, inside and out, how his body is a safehouse and a home where Dean can go to escape, how Cas' arms around him makes him feel so safe and at peace, like nothing had ever gone wrong and everything was utopian. In those moments, it really  _does_  feel like Utopia – because Cas, mistakes and awkward humanity and selfishness and flaws and all, is perfect to him.

But most of all, he loves how Castiel sounds. Maybe it's a stupid favourite, but  _god_  he loves it. Cas' voice is like someone threw gravel into a blender and decided it would be a good idea to turn  _on_  that blender – it's rough and husky and low and Dean can't even  _think_  about it without it sending shivers down his spine. He knows how Cas sounds angry, sad, hurt, terrified, happy, excited, wanton, needy, dying— he knows the different pitches of Cas' voice and each one makes his tummy flutter and his heart pound, and  _fuck,_  he's such a goddamn  _girl_  for Cas. Sometimes, when it's late and he's alone and Sammy's out and Cas is watching TV with Charlie and Kevin's in his room he'll lock the door and play Cas' voice over and over in his head and fuck into his hand and he's so goddamn addicted to it he can't even bring himself to feel shame anymore. He always has to bite the pillow so no one hears him panting Cas' name, and sometimes, if he's lucky, he can hear him talking from outside and it just drives him crazy. Cas' voice has become as much of a home as Sam. His mind connotes it with so many memories— bad and good— and somehow, it manages to fill up the dark, painful, empty hole in his chest completely. It's always been there, a thorn inside of him, like a black hole eating his happiness. But hearing Cas' voice makes him relaxed, comforted; his very presence is safety that crashes over Dean in waves and makes him feel whole for maybe the first time in forever.

When he's with Castiel, he really starts to feel like  _Yeah, this is where I belong. This is home._  

And when he's with Castiel, he believes it.


End file.
